The once and Future Servant
by sharmini
Summary: Set after 'Parallel Destinies', Arthur has embarked on fulfilling his destiny, with Merlin by his side. Is it as easy as it sounds?


Author's note : This is a sequel of sorts to my story _'Parallel Destinies'_. I guess it could stand alone, but I wrote it with the events of the first story in mind.

As it was with _'Parallel Destinies'_, this is a story based on my theory of Arthur knowing of Merlin magical abilities.

Reviews make my day and if I am doing something wrong, I would like to know too.

I do not own _Merlin_. Still passionately pursuing the hope to own the Crowned Prince of Camelot.

***

"Gaul?" Uther Pendragon did not bother to hide his surprise and amazement. "You want to push into Gaul? A military strike?"

"Yes, Father."

"Arthur, are you unwell? Or is this your idea of trying to cheer me up? The herald from Gaul is in the chamber next to us!"

Father and son were in the Main Hall of Castle Camelot the morning the herald from Gaul rode into the kingdom. Arthur has just returned from training and the moment he saw the rat-faced herald, he sought an audience with the King.

"The herald is here for our _goodwill gift_ for their kingdom. Where is their goodwill? Camelot is in ruins; we barely have enough to feed ourselves and now this?" Arthur's voice rose as he spoke.

"Their goodwill has allowed us to defer payment for nine months," Uther pointed out, pouring himself a drink. The Crowned Prince was unpredictable in his actions and words since the battle with the Great Dragon. Today is a good example of one of Arthur's erratic moods.

"You will pay them? At the risk of starving our people?" Arthur was incredulous.

"I will pay Gaul to protect _my_ people from further risks," Uther said, his voice firm.

"Why?"  
Uther did know if he should be surprised at the question, or the fact that Arthur asked it in the first place. Camelot had always sent a _goodwill gift_ to Gaul since coming into existence under Uther's great-great grandfather. Gaul was a mighty kingdom and not wanting to incur the wrath of its powerful ruler, the first Pendragon king had sent a gift of a thousand gold coins. And since then, a herald would arrive from Gaul annually to collect the _gift_.

"Arthur, I think you should channel your efforts into something more constructive, like helping our people to rebuild our kingdom," Uther said. If he had been hoping to dismiss his son, he was wrong.

"There would be nothing to rebuild if you make that payment. We have exhausted all the help and donations sent by our neighbours," Arthur pointed out.

"I will worry about that," Uther replied, taking a drink from his goblet. Arthur's words were true. Food and building material have dwindled down to almost nothing.

"We should not let the chieftain of a horde of barbarians bully us."

"Arthur, that is insolence!" Uther was stunned hearing his son speak.

"It is not insolence, Father," Arthur said, his voice remaining quiet. But there was no denying the urgency behind every word. "Camelot may be in ruins but we should not bow down to anyone. If we had done so for this long, then it is time to put an end to it."

"So, you are suggesting that we forego our payment to them? And then declare war?" It was Uther's turn to be incredulous.

"We simply refuse payment," Arthur replied. "And wait for them to initiate a military strike against us."

"And if they…"

"They will," Arthur assured his father. "They have never been denied payment before. We will send a strong message across; that we will not bow down to them anymore."

"You want me to pick a fight with Gaul? Is that what you are suggesting?"

"There will be a fight," Arthur remarked.

Uther drained his goblet and set in on the table before him. Taking a seat, he regarded his son. "Arthur, I feel I should call for Gaius. Are you suffering from an untreated head injury?"

Arthur almost smiled at his father's remark. But he was serious about the military push. Having survived the Great Dragon's attack, Arthur's perspective has greatly shifted. Camelot is not just a collection of hamlets and villages. Camelot was the personification of the Pendragons; majestic, strong and resilient. If Arthur allows Camelot to be bullied, it is akin to allowing himself to be bullied. Besides, many have talked of Camelot's glorious future, the golden age of Camelot. Arthur couldnot help but to think the future was now.

"You know this cannot go on, Father," Arthur pointed out.

Uther exhaled deeply before speaking. "Arthur, you are suggesting something that is quite impossible."

"We have two hundred knights ready and able to fight." Arthur knew the figure to be less than that, but his father need not be concerned with details.

"Against the legion of Gaul?" Uther asked, wondering if his son was mad.

"We can seek aid from Bayard and Cedred," Arthur said. He did not come into council with his father without planning out what he was going to say.

"Heavens, Arthur! I feel I am in absurd nightmare where my son has lost his mind!"

"They will help us." There was a conviction in Arthur's voice that caused his father to look at him.

"In return for what? They have already sent in so much aid. I still do not know how I am ever going to repay them. And now you are suggesting military aid? Against Gaul?" Uther shook his head. This was getting ridiculously out of hand. It was as Arthur was re-enacting a battle with his toy soldiers.

"Gaul is in chaos. This is the perfect time for us to make our move." It was true. A vague succession plan has thrown Gaul's royal court into turmoil; with the King's three sons, a son-in-law and another son borne of a mistress claiming the throne for themselves, whilst the king of Gaul himself was still alive.

But still, that did not mean Gaul will not rally together for a military offence. And as for seeking aid from their neighbours... Uther shook his head as he thought of them. "Bayard and Cedred sit in their royal courts, laughing of Camelot's circumstances. Yet you expect me to go ask for their help to strike against Gaul?" Uther looked every bit as tired as he sounded.

"Of course not," Arthur said. "I will go."

"Arthur…"

"Father…Sire, you know that this is not an absurd idea…"

"It is far from absurd, Arthur," Uther interrupted him. "It is sheer madness."

"Madness is paying Gaul when we cannot afford it." Arthur came closer to his father, resting on his haunches in front of him. "It will not come to a full-fledged war."

Uther looked at his son. Then, reflexively, he extended a hand, stroking the side of his son's head. "What are you thinking, Arthur? What is your plan?"

Arthur smiled. He knew he had gotten the King's approval. "Trust me, Sire. I will not let you or Camelot down."

Uther sighed. He patted Arthur's cheek as he gestured him to stand up. "What do you suggest I tell the herald?"

"Sire, you may tell him what you have always wanted to tell him."

"That maybe a little inappropriate for our noble court, son," Uther replied, genuinely smiling for the first time since his conversation with Arthur started.

"He's a weasel," Arthur pointed out. "No matter what you tell him, he will only further embellish it for the king of Gaul!"

"And, in the meanwhile, what would you be doing?" Uther had to know what his son would be up to while he picked a fight with an enemy ten times stronger than him.

"I am going to Bayard and Cedred," Arthur replied nonchalantly.

"What will you tell them? What will you offer them, Arthur?"

"That Camelot will protect them in the future," Arthur answered, nonchalance replaced with seriousness.

Uther frowned, but was unable to say anything as Arthur bowed and took leave of his father. It was not until later, as Uther waited for the herald to be present in the Throne Room that Arthur's words became clear to him.

"Camelot will protect them in the future."

It was hard to believe, but Arthur has already begun. Arthur Pendragon has begun to do what he always wanted to do. What he had always been meant to do.

***

Later that evening, the herald of Gaul was seen riding away from Castle Camelot, his grim disposition reflected on the way he whipped his horse for speed.

Uther's Royal Court was in an upheaval. Never have they heard such a coarse language being used in the hallowed halls of Camelot. Such language would have been more appropriate at a Mercian court, but not Camelot. And yet, Uther did not show any signs of remorse. In fact, the King actually looked somewhat satisfied.

The Crowned Prince rode out not long after, with three of his knights and his manservant, Merlin. He was headed south, to seek an audience with King Bayard.

***

King Bayard of Ithenia was in council, seated at the head of a long table, with his ministers, who are best described to be in a state of utter outrage. All thirteen of them were shouting simultaneously at the king. Their choice of words maybe different, but they were all saying the same thing.

Throw Arthur Pendragon out of the castle and have someone escort him to the borders, making sure he reaches Camelot.

Arthur watched the proceedings from his seat at the other end of the table from Bayard. Merlin was standing on his right.

Bayard lifted a hand and silence fell in the council chamber. He then proceeded to ask his most senior minister, who was seated on his right, his opinion on the matter they were discussing. Another clamour rose as all his ministers spoke at once.

Arthur, his eyes on the increasingly harried Bayard, leaned towards Merlin.

"When I am the head of the Royal Council of Camelot, Merlin," Arthur said, his voice loud enough for only Merlin to hear.

"Yes, Sire?"

"Remind me to get a round table," Arthur told him. "These square ones…they are good for feasts and banquets. Not council."

"I will remember that, Sire," Merlin said, smiling.

"Young Pendragon," Bayard's voice silenced his ministers this time. Getting up from his seat, the king gestured Arthur to do the same. "Walk with me."

Arthur got up from his seat. Seeing Bayard leaving the chamber alone, Arthur motioned for Merlin to stay where he was. Then, he went after the king and found him at the end of an expansive hallway, looking out a window. It was a beautiful morning; a glorious summer day.

"It's a good day for hunting," Bayard observed, almost to himself. "That had been my intention, young Pendragon. Hunting, and an afternoon by the lake, teaching my youngest boy to sail. Until you showed up at dawn."

"It is still early," Arthur remarked, trying to keep his impatience in check. Court politics are time-consuming affairs and for someone who believed in doing rather than talking, this was a fairly new territory for Arthur to navigate. "Your son might get his sailing lesson after all."

"You have kept me in council a good part of the morning," Bayard said, turning to Arthur. Whip – thin and bearded, Bayard's languid looks belied his shrewd mind. He was not bothered to hide his annoyance. "And I hate going to Council so early in the morning. Everyone shouts."

"They are just want your attention, Sire," Arthur said, amazed that he could still speak in such a relaxed manner. "And as for your council meeting, I am afraid you called for it, Sire, after you heard my…suggestion." Arthur had been hoping Bayard would decide by himself whether or not he should help Arthur, but the king of Ithenia had assembled his ministers for an early morning council.

"You preposterous idea!" Bayard exclaimed, throwing his hand in despair. "I…"

"You Majesty, if you thought my suggestions were preposterous, you would have thrown me out of the castle the moment I opened my mouth," Arthur said. "The fact that you called in your ministers for council proves, to me at least, that you are seriously considering my suggestion."

Bayard opened his mouth to say something, but words failed him. Arthur breathed an inward sight of relief. He had been walking on thin ice the moment he arrived at Bayard's court, but at least he has managed to correctly guess Bayard's thoughts.

"You should be rebuilding Camelot," Bayard said, turning to the window again. "Not embark on boyish adventures simple because you are bored."

"I am rebuilding my kingdom," Arthur said quietly. The meaning behind his words was not lost on Bayard.

"You are young, arrogant…" Bayard began walking down the hallway. Arthur followed one respectable step behind.

"My youth gives me the hunger and energy to pursue what is best for my kingdom," Arthur told him. "I doubt I am arrogant, Sire. For if I was, I would not be here, seeking your aid."

"Gaul has legions of soldiers."

"Soldiers who have just returned from a campaign in Mercia," Arthur pointed out.

"Victorious, I believe?" Bayard said, knowing full well that the Gaul army crushed the Mercian forces.

"Yes, and probably still drunk from the celebrations and ill-prepared for another military campaign so soon."

"Probably," Bayard mused, almost to himself. "I hate that word, young Pendragon. There is no promise behind a _probability_."

"What if I told you I can probably win this battle?" Arthur asked, quelling all his impulsive thoughts for the moment so that he can finish this negotiation.

"I would say you are a fool," Bayard replied. "But I learnt long ago that a Pendragon's word cannot be doubted."

Arthur began to feel hopeful again. "Does this means you are agreeing to my suggestion? That you will…"

Bayard stopped walking and held up a hand. "I will provide you with eight hundred of my soldiers and twenty of my knights."

Arthur could hardly believe what he was hearing. This was more than what he was expecting for. "That is brilliant," he managed, trying to keep his excitement in check. He felt cheering, shouting at the top of his voice, and run down the hallway screaming.

"In exchange…" Bayard was not done yet.

Arthur quickly regained his composure and spoke. "In exchange to half of Gaul's treasury and the friendship of Camelot," Arthur said, his firm voice indicating for room for bargain.

"Half the treasury?" Bayard asked, his expression a mix of amusement and surprise. "Why half? Why not all?"

"The other half is for King Cedred," Arthur told him. "As I have informed you before, Sire, I am also seeking his aid."

Bayard could not help being impressed. But he did not let it show. "And you want none of Gaul's riches? It is a very prosperous kingdom. It's Treasury is said to contain unimaginable treasures."

"I know. The Treasury is for you and King Cedred," Arthur reiterated.

"And you…?" Bayard had to ask, though he knew what Arthur's answer was going to be. There are two prizes for capturing a kingdom; its treasury and dominion. Arthur was giving away the treasury. This left…

"I get nothing," Arthur answered him. "But my father will get dominion of Gaul."

Such words have never been uttered aloud, even by kingdoms that are hostile to Gaul. Bayard really was not surprised when he heard Arthur. He had always suspected one of the Pendragons would take on Gaul and has been correct on that account. The young Pendragon was passionate and courageous, but will that be enough to take on Gaul? He will just have to wait and see. If anything, the battle would be a good exercise for his soldiers, who have not seen any real battle since five years ago. And then, there was the promise of wealth, which was too tempting to turn down.

"Of course," Bayard said. "Ithenia will recognize Camelot's dominion over Gaul, if it comes to that." One cannot be too hopeful when the odds are stacked against them.

Arthur closed his eyes momentarily. The first part of his plan has somehow managed to come to fruition. And now, Cedred.

"Thank you, Sire," Arthur said. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must take your leave, Sire. I have to seek an audience with king Cedred."

"Cedred would not be a problem," Bayard said. "He hates your father, quite undecided about you but is devoted to his lovely wife, who happens to be my sister. Worry not, young Pendragon. You will get his men."

"Thank you," Arthur said. He did not trust Cedred anymore than he trusted Bayard, but he also knew when not to push it. Bayard and Cedred might plan something behind his back, but it was a risk Arthur had to take. The best he could do now was to put in writing all the terms they have agreed upon. "I will send a herald with our agreements in writing, for you and King Cedred."

"Of course," Bayard said, nodding.

Arthur bowed, not so much, just enough to convey his respect. As the young prince left the king, Bayard realized that he had just been acquainted with a man who would one day become the king of Gaul. The mere thought of it brought a chill to his spine. And at the same time, Bayard could not help his smile. He has a part to play for that to come true, and he had. Just then, Bayard remembered something.

Arthur was almost at the end of the hallway when Bayard stopped him.

"What is your name, young Pendragon?" He asked, searching his memory for the name of Uther's prince, but for the life of him, he could not remember. "I hope you do not mind and please forgive an old man's memory…"

Arthur smiled. "Not at all, Sire," he replied. "My name is Arthur."

Arthur Pendragon. Crowned Prince of Camelot. Future King of Camelot and Gaul. King Arthur Pendragon.

Bayard felt that strange chill again.

***

Arthur was scared, overjoyed and everything in between.

So far so good, he thought, as he pushed the limits of his horse towards Camelot. It was unbelievable that he had just concluded a negotiation with a king once imprisoned by his father. It definitely calls for a celebration.

Arthur promised himself a celebration of the grandest scale.

Once he unites all of Albion.

***

Six weeks later, Arthur was standing at the precipice of a flat hill, looking down at the valley laid out below him. It was the night before the battle and Arthur Pendragon's army was camped just a stone throw's from the battle field. Morale amongst the men was mixed; Arthur's age and military experience were a point of contention; some claim he was foolish, others were willing to give some leeway for youthful passion. But there was no doubt, they were all ready to fight the battle.

Cedred had sent three hundred men and fifty knights. Arthur now had one thousand one hundred soldiers, two hundred and seventy knights, one mercenary and one manservant. He was up against four thousand soldiers who had annihilated Mercian forces not two months ago. The morale at the Gaul camp should be at an all time high.

Tomorrow, Arthur battles for Camelot, for his life; for both are intrinsically linked. He knows each of his plans came with its own risks and he was prepared to face them all. He wondered now if he had been rash in his decision to go to battle with Gaul.

He wished his father had stopped him.

He wished Bayard or Cedred had called him mad and denied his request.

He wished he did not have such doubts when deep inside he knew that he could...would defeat Gaul. He had always trusted his instincts; it had kept him safe, offered new perspectives for him to ponder. He wound not act against his instincts.

He could do this.

He would win this.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice cut through the silence, causing him to turn away from the valley.

"Yes, Merlin?"

Merlin stepped towards the campfire he had lit earlier in front of Arthur's tent. He looked a bit overworked, Arthur noticed. They all were.

"I've watered your horse," Merlin said, jerking his thumb in the general direction of the horses, which were tied up at the trees behind Arthur's tent. "I'll polish..."

"That will not be necessary, Merlin," Arthur said, gesturing for Merlin to take a seat on a log in front of the campfire. A pheasant was roasting in the fire, but neither men looked as if they had any appetite for supper. "I'll only muck it up again tomorrow."

"It's funny that you've never thought about that when you made me polish your armour every evening when we were at the palace," Merlin said, sitting down and stretching his legs out in front of him. Seeing the pheasant, he said, "You haven't eaten."

"Later," Arthur dismissed it, as he sat on another log next to Merlin. He picked up a stick and poked the fire, watching the embers jump. "Do you think I am foolish?" Arthur asked suddenly.

Merlin took a moment to answer Arthur. "I don't think you are foolish," he said. "I know you are foolish."

Arthur could help laughing. Trust Merlin not to loose his sense of humour even in the midst of a potentially life-threatening event.

Merlin was not finished yet. "But fools are those who act with the best intentions in their hearts. You have good intentions for Camelot, Arthur. It goes without saying that your intention and ambition are linked. Some see your intentions. Others see your ambition. Those who see your ambition and intentions apart, see a foolish young prince chasing after glory. Those who see it together, see a young man setting out to do what he was he was destined to do."

Arthur swallowed, grateful for the words of his friend. "And you, Merlin? What do you see?"

"I see Arthur Pendragon setting out to do what he knows in his heart he was meant to do," Merlin replied, his quiet voice reflective not only truth, but pride as well. "And see him not letting the overwhelming odds stop him from getting it done." There was a mischievous twinkle in Merlin's eyes as he continued. "I also see a stubborn prat, who finally found something constructive to do with the time and energy he has wasted tormenting his manservant!"

"You're impossible, Merlin," Arthur said, throwing the stick at Merlin. But, he was grateful for every word Merlin had said. If this is how the eve of a battle would be, he would not mind a thousand battles. But good humour aside, Arthur had something important to tell Merlin.

"Merlin," Arthur began, poking at the fire again, just for need of keeping his hands occupied. "What ever happens in the battlefield tomorrow, you will always have us to protect you."

Merlin was surprised when he heard Arthur. "Us?" he asked. "What..."

"Come on and say hello to Merlin, my friend," Arthur called and someone merged from Arthur's tent.

"Lancelot!" Merlin cried, standing up as the dark-haired man came to greet Merlin. Arthur too stood up, throwing the stick aside and moving towards Merlin and Lancelot, who were exchanging greetings and shaking hands. With Arthur in their midst, the circle was complete.

"I tracked him down at Auricia," Arthur explained of Lancelot's presence in the battlefield. "As far as I am concerned, Lancelot is still a knight of Camelot. Told him about the battle…"

"Didn't need a second invitation," Lancelot continued. "So here I am."

"Yes," Merlin said, looking at Lancelot. "Here you are. Thank heavens!"

"I'll try not to take offence to that," Arthur said, glaring at Merlin, whose response was to laugh. "Anyway, as I was saying before, you have nothing to fear, Merlin. Lancelot and I will protect you at all times."

Merlin's expression turned serious. Pulling himself to his height, he said, "I am Arthur Pendragon's manservant. I do not fear anything. Except for the Prince's socks."

"With that kind of attitude, Merlin, you might be the first casualty of the battle, before the battle," Arthur said, his expression equally serious. Lancelot nodded his agreement.

"But surely you already know by now I am not that easy to get rid of."

Arthur acknowledged this with a small smile. "I know," he said. Looking at Lancelot and then at Merlin, he added, "Just having the both of you by my side has given me tremendous strength to face this battle."

Lancelot nodded, putting a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "We are with you to the end, Arthur."

"Hopefully the end won't be tomorrow," Merlin quipped, feeling the need to lighten the situation.

The laughter of the Crowned Prince, his manservant and the mercenary rang clear in the night, carried to the valley below.

***

The battle was to take place at the Fields of Norigel, five miles of no-man's land between the northern borders of Camelot and Gaul. Arthur had the advantage of facing west, which meant Aulfric's men were exposed to the glare of the morning sun. It was also a disadvantage, as there was no natural protection for Arthur's men from the onslaught of Gaul's arrows.

Bayard and Cedred's men were now under the banner of Camelot, with Arthur in the front line. Merlin looked out of place on his right. Lancelot was on Arthur's left.

The battlefield was eerily silent. The only sounds were the restless horses and the faint rustle of chain mails, armour and shields. Merlin swallowed, wondering who will make the first move.

"Here we are, Merlin," Arthur said, his eyes on the Gaul army, a hundred paces away. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Sire," Merlin replied, a little surprised that Arthur should ask him this. It was supposed to be a question for Lancelot, for his soldiers, or any one of his knights. Not his manservant. It was also rather surprising that Arthur did not deliver his speech to the soldiers as he would before riding to battle. He had merely raised his sword, hit his shield and then led them to the battlefield.

'Then the battlefield is yours," Arthur said, this time looking at Merlin.

Four years had passed since Merlin became Arthur's manservant. The only other time Merlin had seen Arthur with the similar look in his eyes were when they were taking part in Anhora's test at the labyrinths of Gedref. Arthur had been determined to sacrifice himself to save Camelot. It had been apprehension mingled with hope. A silent implore. And today, there was something else behind the blue eyes. Complete trust and understanding.

He knows. Arthur knows. And here he was, putting that knowledge to test. Merlin was horrified. All the preparation, all of Arthur's pride…belief and Camelot's dignity had been thrust upon him.

It was so unfair, Merlin wanted to protest. It was beyond unfair. It seemed somewhat selfish.

_How dare he?_

_ How dare Arthur demand such a thing from him? _

_ How dare Arthur risk his own life and those of others on something that may not work? _

"Merlin?" Arthur's voice broke his reverie.

Merlin looked at Arthur. "I…" he began and could feel his anger dissipating. Arthur was his destiny. It was in Arthur achieving his destiny that he would fulfil his.

_But it was too soon. _

Merlin shook the thought away. The day could have come at any time and even then, he knew he would have thought it came too soon. It so happens that today is the first day of their future.

"I will not let any harm come to you, my friend," Arthur said quietly. The meaning of his words extended to the repercussions beyond the battlefield.

Merlin nodded. He lightly kicked his horse on its side and trotted out of the front line. Soldiers from both sides were surprised to see the manservant stepping forward, wondering if he was a herald delivering a message for Aulfric. Merlin stopped his horse midway between the two sides. He glanced back at Arthur, who smiled and nodded. Merlin turned back and faced Gaul's forces, which did not look so intimidating now. He raised his right hand, summoning every bit of magic he knew and possessed.

It takes a heartbeat to conjure magic, but Merlin with his ability to control time and space could sense very moment of that singular heartbeat. With the incantation at the tip of his tongue and the energy accumulating in his hand, Merlin's vision went brilliant gold, as he sought a target for his magic. He focused on the line of soldiers three rows back. And then, unleashed it.

Gaul's first defence failed and before they could react, Arthur had already led the charge against the rest of the Gaul army.

***

By dusk, the battle was over. Aulfric, first born of the Gaul King, was a prisoner of Arthur.

Three days later, Uther Pendragon rode into the battlefield with more reinforcement from Bayard and Cedred. He acknowledged Arthur's victory in a rousing, morale-boosting speech and reinstated Lancelot as a knight of Camelot. Lancelot went through the ceremony because Uther was after all Arthur's father and later told Merlin that it was all a waste time.

"My loyalty is for Arthur alone," Lancelot said, an oath that meant more than the pledge he recited in front of Uther moments ago.

Uther did not look at Merlin in any occasion they were near each other.

On the tenth day, Arthur marched inot Gaul and captured its capital. The next day, the king of Gaul was accompanied to the battlefield by Lancelot. He came to beg the life of his first-born and for his people.

Arthur divided the Treasury, as promised, between Bayard and Cedred. He rationed Gaul's harvest between Gaul, Camelot and his soldiers.

The soldiers of Bayard and Cedred, numbering at three thousand at the end of the battle, pledged their allegiance to Arthur Pendragon.

On the fifteenth day, King Uther of Camelot became the first Pendragon king of Gaul.

***

_The next part coming up real soon. If anyone wants it..._


End file.
